


Fathers

by TheClownsLaugh



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Other, Prison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-20
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-07-09 06:35:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19883236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheClownsLaugh/pseuds/TheClownsLaugh
Summary: Priest has been captured. For some reason, Special Class Urie decides to go speak to him.





	Fathers

The door opens again. That quite takes Donato by surprise. Two visits in one day? He hasn't been here for long but it doesn't take much to understand that it's unusual. Had it been Marude, he would have teased him good but it's not his smell that comes through the door.

Donato's eyes darken.

The suppressants he's on are too powerful for him to manage a kakugan but his eyes still glint red for a second. He represses it – he doesn't want the guards to see it and give him more suppressants. They're quite absolutely unpleasant.

Still, he doesn't need to lift his head to know who it is who entered the room. It's the last person he wants to see, really. The steps sound closer and closer to the huge ghoul-proof glass window that separates the human from the ghoul. His smile is sinister – he knows it – but it's the only thing he's able to muster right now. Might scare him, who knows. So Donato doesn't change anything and meets the gaze of the investigator who took everything from him.

Oh, he didn't do that alone, certainly. But he was the one who was able to keep up with him. The one that saw right through him when he was certain to be opaque.

“My, my, so many visitors today!” he exclaims. There's still an edge to his voice. He knows the other heard it. “Did that Marude forget something?”

The investigator, Special Class Urie, grabs a chair and pulls it to him before sitting. “I'm here independently. Please sit.”

He gestures to the plastic chair on Donato's side of the window and Donato complies. He wants to taunt, or let out a remark but the more he looks into the investigator's stern and black eyes, the less he's able to speak. Oh, how he feels young again – that nervousness before speaking hadn't happened to him since, well, his much younger years. Donato doesn't recall. All he knows is that he cannot articulate a word right now, so he just waits for the other to speak first.

Dear God, even his smile doesn't feel right. His whole body is tense. The only thing he wants to do is rip apart that human with his own, bare hands. The only reason he's here is that he didn't manage it the first time, so why does he think he'd be able to now, when he's under so much suppressants he can barely feel his kakuhou? Maybe it's the sheer rage that swells up in his stomach. The resentment he knows won't fade away.

He wonders who will talk first.

Mikito can't take his eyes away from the ghoul's.They're so blue, so old – so _cold._ Now that he read the reports again, he still cannot understand how they managed to catch that ghoul, since it turned out he was one of the Clowns.

He doesn't know if he's trying to, but the ghoul in front of him doesn't hide his hatred. He wears it like a finely cut coat – one made out of darkness. The smile on his lips doesn't make it look better, only darker. It's his first time seeing a smile like that. He smiled too during the fight – Mikito remembers it clear as day, clear as those eyes ripping him apart silently. Despite the smile, he seemed – and still does – as serious as all the ghouls he had battled until then. But with a certain cruel irony added to it.

For a second, he forgets why he's even here. It's not to rub his victory in the other's face. No, only a classless investigator would do something like that. He breathes calmly to gather himself.

“The boy is taken care of,” he lets out. Surprise crosses the old ghoul's face. It's brief, but Mikito saw it. He wonders if he will ask _'what boy'_ so he waits a bit.

No denial from the ghoul, not even another sign of acknowledgement that he heard him talk. Maybe his eyes are more intense. Mikito cannot tell.

“He's sheltered by the CCG's academy for now. He'll start attending its school next week, too. For now he's acclimating. He hasn't made a friend yet and stays on his own a bit, but he's not hostile to the other children's advances, so that's great.” He nods for himself. He has been concerned for the child but he's doing better than he expected. “However, he doesn't eat enough and always leaves out his meat.”

That last bit earns him a reaction from the ghoul. A light chuckle.

Mikito focuses on the ghoul again. His eyes are not on him anymore. They've lost their intensity. Relief lifts a weight from Mikito's shoulder. He had been right.

Almost three months pass without any visit and Donato is bored to death in his cell. They allowed him some newspapers but they were quite old and it gets even more boring quite rapidly.

He's busy folding one of the front pages into a crane when he gets a buzz telling him to go to the secondary room – the one with the window glass. He crushes the crane into his fist, reminding himself that he have been slowly regaining his strength. It's still not even nearly enough to break the window or his cell door but for now he's content with just that.

He gets up, wondering what they want with him this time.

When he enters the interrogation room, the smell attacks him. He isn't ready to forget that one... Urie Mikito, again.

This time, his smile comes more naturally, despite his blood freezing in his veins.

“What a surprise, the talkative Special Class! What was your name, again?”

There's no way Donato would forget his name, of course, and he knows Urie knows it as well. He announces it nonetheless, to which Donato only nods. The investigator sits and wait for Donato to do so as well before he starts.

“He's doing much better and he's made a friend.”

He doesn't say who. They both know who he's talking about. Once again, Donato doesn't utter a word. He just listens while his blood boils.

“His friend's name is Harima, she's the same age as him. Very bright girl. She shares her sweets with him.”

Donato closes his eyes as Special Class Urie describes the young girl. He imagines himself cutting her up in half, the blood – so warm – all over his hands. He wants to extinguish the spark of cleverness in her eyes, feel it die under his teeth. He wants to hear her scream as he does it. To see the horror freeze in her eyes as he rips them away. Sweet tooth as well, huh? He cannot wait.

The investigator stops talking about that child, Harima, and goes back to the interesting subject.

“He eats much better too. He's still reluctant to eat his meat but he's getting there. I feel like school is helping him a lot. He smiles a lot more, now, and his teachers don't run out of praise for him."

Donato nods knowingly. Well of course.

And for half an hour, Urie Mikito goes on and on about that child. Turns out he sometimes gives class in the academy, so he has the occasion to see him at least once a week. That makes Donato want to crucify him on the ceiling so he can stay there, wondering what is going on outside, more bored than a dead rat, in more pain than he can even imagine is possible. That thought makes him smile. Aah, it truly would feel good to have someone understand how it feels for him to be in here, where nothing ever happens and where the most entertaining thing are the months old wrinkled newspapers.

“Oh, by the way,” suddenly says the investigator, “he found a family.”

What.

“He moved in with them last week.”

_What???_

“They don't have any other children but they're really caring and they don't live too far from the academy.”

He opens his mouth again but Donato beats him to it. “What is their name?”

It doesn't even sound like a question to him. It's never bright that deep into Cochlea but right now, even though the lights are on on his side of the cell and on the other, where the investigator is sitting, he feels in complete darkness. He doesn't blink while waiting for his sight to return.

When it does, he notices that Urie is standing up, in an alert stance, his hand on his case. Donato's smile widens.

For three years this went on.

Urie Mikito would come visit every couple of months and talk. On and on. While Donato Porpora, known in the CCG for being the one to talk, listens.

Many investigators had come back from a conversation with Donato in tears or turning pale from sickness. The only ones who never did are Marude Itsuki – who didn't care much for what Donato was saying, as long as he provided the informations he asked – and Urie Mikito. Urie's visits are always visits of courtesy. Not once did he come for an investigation.

“What courtesy do you want to have for ghouls such as him?” Iwa often asks him.

Mikito never answers that question by anything else than a joke. He's not sure he can explain it. He's not sure Iwa heard what he did back in that old church. And even if he did, he'd probably think it's foolish from him anyway.

It's April, this time. Mikito likes spring: it's pretty and it smells good. He wonders for a second why he's driving so early to the 23th ward on his day off. He has just dropped Kuki to school and now he is on his way to Cochlea.

He enters his name on the register, greets the warden and starts to go down. The stairs always seem endless and the flickering lights doesn't help. It gets darker anyway. Mikito is used to it, now. He doesn't mind it as much as he used to.

Donato Porpora meets him with a serene smile on his face and blood in his eyes. His kakugan hadn't reappeared ever since he mentioned the Amon family. They had increased the suppressants dose they give him, ever since. Still, Mikito can tell Donato wants to kill him as much as he did the first day.

“Hello,” says Mikito.

“It's been a while, Special Class,” replies the ghoul as he's sitting down. “Mind telling me the date? I'm loosing track of time, down here.”

Mikito nods and tells him as he's sitting down as well. He hears a hum of approval and he looks up immediately, surprised.

“It's his birthday, tomorrow. You should buy him donuts.”

“That would be favoritism, I can't do that. I didn't even know when is his birthday until right now.”

“Well then just say it's from me. I'll pay you back.”

The ghoul stretches and his back cracks audibly. Mikito ignores his last comment and wonders how the beds are in those cells. He never went inside one. He smiles lightly and shakes his head.

“I _really_ cannot do that.”

“Then could you at least tell me one thing?” the ghoul asks.

That makes Mikito flinch. What could Donato Porpora possibly want to know?

“Ask away,” he still says.

“Why do you do this?”

Mikito understands what he means. He also sees in the ghoul's eyes that he knows a part of the truth. The investigator wonders if he wants to make sure or if he just wants to hear it from him. Mikito shrugs but his heart clenches a little when the face of his most cherished person comes to his mind.

“Oh, well... I have a son too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at like 5 am and I kind of really hate it.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed, tho! Thank you for reading <3


End file.
